


Vaya Con Dios

by greenmage128



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, But for those that do; you've been warned, Multi, as in if Season 9 went horribly horribly wrong, bolivian army ending, if you don't know what that trope is I suggest you don't look it up until after you read this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-13 03:30:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3366071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenmage128/pseuds/greenmage128
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They've run as long as they could, but they all knew they would be caught eventually. Gabriel finds he's surprisingly okay with the outcome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vaya Con Dios

**Author's Note:**

> For the [SPN Rare OTP Fic-a-Month Challenge](http://otpfic-a-month.livejournal.com/) for February. Theme: romance/romantic, which I'm not 100% sure I held to, but the mention is there. In my defense, this is about how this ship would go about being romantic, at least in a meaningful sense.

Gabriel coughed as he tried to sit up, all the internal organs that shouldn't have mattered protesting and forcing him back down onto the bed. “Ah, fuck.”  
  
“Don't die on us yet, darling,” Crowley said, glancing at him before resuming his watch of the wards, their only defense against the forces chasing them.  
  
“Don't worry. I'll manage to get pants on first.” Gabriel tried again, and this time he at least worked himself into a sitting position. He would take it. “Do you mind…?”  
  
The demon chuckled and got up from his seat at the desk, handing him his jeans with a smirk. “Would you like the rest?”  
  
He shook his head, though his vision swam with the effort. “No point. The shirt's ruined anyway.”  
  
Crowley picked up the shredded pile of burgundy fabric that was once Gabriel's shirt, clicking his tongue. “Who would've guessed Gadreel would be the zealous one in bed? Not that I'm complaining.”  
  
“Repression since the dawn of time will do that to a person.” Gabriel managed to pull on his pants and then leaned back against the pillows at the headboard. Last night had been intense, even by his standards. They'd needed to feel something other than the sense of impending doom, to not think for at least a few hours. If Gabriel had to pick a way to spend his last night alive, that would be in his top three, though the company was a surprise.  
  
For the first time since they'd been on the lam, Gabriel thought to question that last bit. “Why are you here, Crowley? If safety was what you wanted, tagging along with Heaven's Most Wanted wasn't exactly the smartest thing to do.”  
  
“Ah, but you're also the archangel that managed to hide from Heaven for over a thousand years and Metatron's former righthand man. That counts for quite a bit,” Crowley said. He turned back to Gabriel and shrugged. “Besides, I figured you'd be the least likely to betray me to Abaddon.”  
  
Gabriel found himself smirking despite the pain in his chest. Gadreel had healed the physical wound, but the damage to his Grace remained. Fucking uppity demon bitches. “I thought about it, but then I figured she'd just hand us over to Meta-douche anyway once you were out of the way.”  
  
The demon grinned. “Sadly not all of us have the same sense of honor I do.”  
  
“Spare me,” Gabriel said, rolling his eyes. “You'd sell your own mother, if you had one.”  
  
“Of course I would. The witch abandoned me.” Crowley's tone turned on a dime, going from playful to angry faster than he could blink. It was safer not to touch that one, Gabriel decided.  
  
Gadreel returned then, his Grace slipping through the tiny gap they'd left in the wards for him and shutting it behind him. They looked up when he entered their shitty motel room and found the angel was even more worn down than when he'd left.  
  
“How is it looking out there?” Gabriel asked.  
  
“Worse,” was all Gadreel said to that. He sat at the foot of the bed with a heavy sigh, his weight even heavier. “How are you? I thought last night I might have—”  
  
The archangel nudged him with his foot, the best he could do at the moment. “I'm fine, kiddo. Well, as fine as I'm going to get, anyway.”  
  
Disbelief fluttered through Gadreel's Grace, but he let it go. Possessing a Winchester must have taught him well about accepting the bullshit “everything's fine” song and dance. “Dean and his army of angels and demons appear to be in the process of initiating their global assault. We don't have long, if we have any time left at all.”  
  
Crowley sighed, and was that… regret Gabriel detected? A remorseful demon; and to think after averting the Apocalypse Gabriel thought he'd seen everything. “I should never have led Dean to the bloody Mark.”  
  
“Well, yeah.” Gabriel gave him a look, which Crowley returned with a glare. “Then again, it was the only way. It's not your fault Murgatroyd was two steps ahead of everyone, and Dean went dark side. Otherwise it was a decent plan.”  
  
Gadreel nodded, frowning now. “We've all had a hand in building this disaster. The most we can do now is try to survive it.”  
  
The bottle of whiskey sitting on the desk next to Crowley was starting to look awfully tempting, so Gabriel hauled himself to his feet and made for it, though Gadreel had to stop him from falling twice before he reached it. Once the bottle was in his grasp, he collapsed into Crowley's lap, who didn't seem to mind the intrusion.  
  
They each took a deep swig of liquor before Gabriel offered it to Gadreel, who shook his head. Gabriel shrugged and had another gulp or four.  
  
“So what do we do now?” Gadreel asked. “Our options are few, but we may still be able to evade Dean.”  
  
“Not in our state. Besides, we've nowhere left to run,” Crowley said. He snatched the bottle from Gabriel and took a long drink.  
  
Gabriel leaned back against the demon, the feeling of alcohol swimming in his system a nice alternative to the pain, which had been reduced to a dull ache via the whiskey. He felt Crowley's hands slide up his thighs to his waist, and if he didn't think they might get ambushed at any moment, he would've turned round and continued the events of last night. “Might as well face the music. No point in dragging it out now.”  
  
“Perhaps.” Gadreel's frustration was near-tangible. To have gotten this far, to have stayed alive this long only to submit; it was a lot to ask.  
  
And the archangel didn't really want to, either. So he offered, “Look, if you want to keep running, I don't blame you. Just don't bother dragging me along, because I'll only be dead weight at this point.”  
  
Both his companions went quiet. Gadreel reached over and slid the chair closer to the bed, close enough that Gabriel could set his feet in his lap without trouble. “Separating is just as pointless, my friend. Either way, we're… What's the phrase?”  
  
“Fucked, essentially,” Crowley set the bottle down and held Gabriel tighter, an attempt at comforting that should have made them both uncomfortable, but here, at the end of things, what did it matter? Pride could go fuck itself.  
  
Gadreel gave a hesitant nod, one eyebrow raised at Crowley's word choice. “I'd rather we face this end together, if we truly have no other options.”  
  
“'All for one' and all that nonsense? Well isn't that romantic?” Gabriel laughed, though he accepted the hand Gadreel laid on his knee.  
  
Something in the air shifted, and the wards around them started to crack. Dean had found them, then.  
  
“Well, it was nice dying with you, lads,” Crowley said, eyeing the wards. “We'll have to do it again some time.”  
  
Gabriel forced himself to stand, and both Crowley and Gadreel put a hand out to steady him. When the younger angel had freed him from Metatron's prison six months ago, somehow he had thought this would have gone differently. He hadn't counted on Metatron teaming up with Abaddon, Dean by her side, or that Sam and Castiel would be unable to stand against the demon that still dared to call itself Dean Winchester. Crowley allying himself with he and Gadreel had been a boon, however temporary. They would have perished by now without him, so what harm would it do to stretch things out a little more? “We're not dead yet. I say we go Butch and Sundance on these assholes.”  
  
Crowley stood up as well, pulling an angel blade from his pocket and testing out its weight with a twirl. “Pointless as it is?”  
  
“We might be able to make a difference even as we die, and that is a chance I'm willing to take,” Gadreel said and followed suit, bringing forward his own blade as the walls themselves started to break. “Wouldn't you agree?”  
  
It took the demon a moment, but he made a noise of assent, and Gabriel couldn't help the grin that crossed his face. Surprising as the company was, he couldn't think of better beings to die alongside.  
  
The door burst open, and lesser demons and a few cherubs started trickling into the room. The three of them exchanged one last glance before meeting their foes blade-first.


End file.
